


Vestiges of Trust

by foggynite



Category: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hyde's typical commentary, Jekyll's emotional issues, M/M, Spoilers, immediately post-movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggynite/pseuds/foggynite
Summary: It's the little steps that get you places.
Relationships: Henry Jekyll/Rodney Skinner
Kudos: 1





	Vestiges of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 8/4/05. Spoilers for the movie and the novelization.

**Part One: Siberia**

What drew Jekyll’s attention first was that Skinner’s invisible flesh still radiated heat. For some reason, he hadn’t expected it to. It had never occurred to him that, although he could no longer see the skin, it might yet function the same as his in all other ways. It tweaked his scientific curiosity, and his mind wanted to unlock this new puzzle.

He sat in the Nautilus’ medical area, which had become a second home to him on this journey, and continued to carefully clean the burns floating in front of his face. The areas where the epidermis actually blistered had resulted in the visible wounds, but as he deftly cleared debris from Skinner’s back, he could feel patches of skin that were hotter than others.

“Doctor?” Mrs. Harker was at his elbow, offering another dripping piece of bandage.

Her beauty still took his breath away, but he was in his element now, confident. The stuttering would return in a few minutes. So he just accepted the dressing with a nod and carefully applied the cold-soaked cloth to the swell of Skinner’s left buttock. A moan of pain came from the head of the rough canvas cot, but otherwise Skinner lay still.

The Invisible Man now looked like The Mummy, and Jekyll might have made a joke of it, but the thief was obviously in too much pain to appreciate such humor. The current lack of sarcastic comments indicated just how ill the man was feeling.

“One last spot,” Jekyll murmured under his breath as he moved further up the cot.

His touch was gentle as he dabbed at the charred fragments of skin around the blister. Skinner hissed and jerked away suddenly, catching the doctor off guard, and Jekyll caught his balance by grabbing for the cot frame, unfortunately landing on an invisible thigh as well.

Quickly righting himself, he cursed his blushing face and loss of composure, merely gripping his handful of gauze tighter. Skinner twisted his head carefully, face recognizable only by the streaks of dirt on his chin and cheeks. It was enough for Jekyll to identify his knowing smirk.

“Oy! Kickin’ a man while he’s down, Doc?” Skinner’s voice was whiny and the joke fell flat, but Jekyll smiled half-heartedly, glad the man wouldn’t make anything of it.

“Sorry. It’s difficult to tell what’s what…”

“Heh. S’alright. Shoulda seen me when I was learning to shave like this…”

He resumed wiping as lightly as possible, wincing in sympathy every time the thief let out a noise of pain. There were still a dozen rescued hostages to tend to, as well as his own wounds, but Jekyll was determined that the black sheep of the League would get the best possible care.

“Look, Skinner…” His voice broke and he cleared his throat self-consciously. For a moment, he focused on the task at hand while he tried to formulate the best approach to his decision.

“What’s a matter, Doc? It’s not fatal, is it?”

“Oh, uh, no… Not that. It’s just…” He paused in his ministrations and geared up his courage. He was unnerved by the fact that he couldn’t tell if the other man was looking at him or not. “I just wanted to apologize for my, um, assumptions earlier… I’m afraid I did you a great injustice and I—“

“Don’t worry about it, mate.” There was tired laughter in Skinner’s voice. “I’d have thought the same about me, too.”

Jekyll smiled, relieved that at least one of his relations with the other team members was in accord. The bandages in front of him shifted, obviously trying to get more comfortable.

“Now that we’ve got your conscience out of the way, do you think we could have a bit more ice on me bum?”

Chuckling, Jekyll turned to soak another dressing in the bowl of water at his elbow. Mrs. Harker had moved on, probably tending to the other injured passengers, but First Mate Patel appeared at his side.

“Dr. Jekyll? The Captain wished to warn you that there are English icebreakers fast on the approach. He puts their estimated time of arrival within the next hour, and would like the League to assemble…”

Jekyll nodded, but motioned to Skinner’s covered form. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I’m afraid Mr. Skinner should not be moved for—“

“Speak for yourself, Doc.” The mound of bandages sat up, a few of the dressings falling loose. The invisible man had grime on his face and arms, and Jekyll could see the belligerent expression. “Just hand me my bloody boots, and I’m good to go.”

Jekyll opened his mouth to protest, but Skinner held up a hand swathed in bandages. “Nuh-uh. Not a word.”

“But your-“

“Heh. To be honest, I’m looking forward to walking around starkers in the bleedin’ snow right now.”

And there really wasn’t anything Jekyll could say to that, so he remained quiet and went to change what was left of his shirt.

**Part Two: The Nautilus**

Nemo assured them that it would only take another day to reach Quartermain’s beloved Nairobi. The crew was constantly moving around the Nautilus at all hours, but the sea was pitch black at night, like they were cutting through tar to get to Kenya.

The murky depths suited Jekyll just fine. He still found sleep difficult and had stationed himself on the abandoned observation deck in the belly of the ship. He wished he could find greater solitude, though. His more humane consciousness was cursed with the knowledge of everything Hyde had done when he was running free in Paris and England, and where the beast found no cause for remorse, Dr. Henry Jekyll found quite a bit.

Since calling upon Hyde and working with the brute, Jekyll had reached a sort of equilibrium within himself. Their two personalities were far from integrated, but the lumbering giant did not plague Jekyll to set him free as he had in the past. It was almost as though Hyde knew he’d be needed again and was just biding his time.

Not exactly a reassuring thought.

A reflection joined Jekyll’s in the observation deck window, but this time it wasn’t his alter-ego. The scientist hadn’t thought anyone else awake at that hour, but apparently Tom Sawyer was an insomniac, too.

“Dark out there, huh?” Sawyer opened conversation.

“Indeed, sir.”

A long silence followed, slightly awkward and dragged out. Jekyll stared serenely at the air bubbles in the water outside, while Sawyer looked everywhere but him.

“So…” Sawyer scuffed the toe of his boot on the marble tiles while his fingers drummed on the ornate railing. “How you holdin’ up?”

Jekyll looked questioningly over at the shaggy-haired American agent. The younger man had bags under his bloodshot eyes, his mouth was lined with fatigue, and his clothes looked as though they hadn’t been laundered since Mongolia. Sadly, Jekyll realized he probably didn’t look much better himself.

“I am well.”

“Good.” Sawyer clapped him affectionately on the shoulder, willing to accept the platitude at face value.

“I--“ Jekyll stuttered and stopped himself. “I hope you are also well?”

Sawyer smiled wearily. “I’ll live.”

“Good.”

That seemed to be the extent of their conversation. Quartermain’s death had impacted the young American far more than the rest of the League, saving perhaps Captain Nemo, but they were all still in mourning. Jekyll didn’t know what comfort he could offer, and so remained silent. Sawyer looked to be swaying on his feet, and Jekyll finally turned to him.

“You should try to get some sleep, Agent Sawyer. Rest while you can.”

“Eh. I’ll rest when I’m dead. And call me Tom.” Sawyer grinned but heeded his suggestion and pushed away from the rail. “You should sleep at some point, too. It’s not every day you get an all-expense paid vacation on a floating city…”

Jekyll returned the grin. “Don’t let the good Captain hear you address his Lady as such.”

“Right on that!” Sawyer called behind him as he left the deck.

Letting his grin fade, Jekyll turned back to the window. A rustle of leather drew his attention to the archway opposite the one Sawyer had just exited through. A floating trench coat came into view, invisible hands casually jammed in the pockets.

“He’s a good kid. Means well.”

Jekyll just nodded noncommittally and hoped Skinner would get the message that he didn’t feel like company. Of course the man would ignore his wishes. His invisible comrade paused at the rail beside him, leaning forward in a relaxed pose. A moment later he stood up and shrugged out of his jacket.

“Mind if I…” He gestured with the leather coat, then hung it over the railing. “My back is killing me.”

Keeping quiet, Jekyll just studied the light reflecting off the windows and cursed his luck. After midnight and already two of the other four league members had visited him. Nemo and Harker were probably lurking in the halls.

“Still has his sights set on the honorable Mrs. Harker, though.” Skinner continued his conversation out of nowhere, voice coming from around Jekyll’s left elbow. “A train wreck about to happen, if you ask me…”

“Excuse me,” Jekyll kept his tone sharp and disdainful. “But I do not wish to speculate on the personal lives of my associates.”

He turned to leave, but an invisible hand on his arm spun him around. He tried to stifle the involuntary gasp that rose in his throat at the warmth of Skinner’s touch.

Weakling, the brute growled in his ear, mocking.

“Hey, hey, hey! No need to get your knickers in a twist!” The grip on his arm was gentle, not even really restraining him, but Jekyll couldn’t leave. “I was just making conversation, Doc…”

Jekyll chose a point in the far hallway to stare at. It was easier than trying to guess where Skinner was without his makeup.

“I’m actually quite tired, Agent Skinner, so if you’ll excuse me…” Turning away, he stiffened as the hold on his arm tightened. He tried ineffectually to pull himself from Skinner’s grasp.

“Hey, hey. Hold on a second…”

It seemed Skinner was determined to have it out with him, so he sighed and resigned himself to the unpleasantness ahead. At least it distracted him from the surge of heat that he could feel spreading up his arm.

“C’mon, Doc. What’d I do now?”

The question was unexpected, for its forwardness and its content. Anger unfurled in him, the feeling of betrayal when they’d been told that there was a member of Her Majesty’s Secret Service on board the entire time– Watching them, reporting back their actions– just when Jekyll had started to trust him, had thought there was some truth to his overtures of friendship.

When he pulled away this time, Skinner let him go.

“You, sir, are quite a character.”

“Hey, now. What’s that mean?”

“I think you are perfectly capable of deducing that for yourself, Agent.”

_Looks like you finally grew a set, Henry. Sure you wanna scare him off, though?_

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say nothing, Doc.”

Jekyll paused in his internal debate and frowned in Skinner’s direction. “My apologies. It was not you I addressed. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

He retreated to the hallway before Skinner could protest again. The sound of his feet was a furious staccato in the abandoned corridors.

_Typical Henry, running away. What’s wrong? Don’t wanna argue with your boyfriend?_

“Quit that.”

Rumbling laughter in his ear. _Don’t like the truth, do we?_

“I’m not like that.”

_Is he why you never had a chance with her, hm? Why you wouldn’t let me show her how much of a man we are? Too busy wondering what it’d be like to bugger his–_

“You’re disgusting.” He finally found the right hall for his quarters.

More laughter. _I am you, and you are me._

“You are not me.” He fumbled with the handle to his room and stumbled inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Hyde’s laughter still echoed in his ears as he lay down to sleep.

**Part Three: Undisclosed Location**

_Wake up, Henry._

The echoing drips around him were not familiar. There wasn't the continual hum of the Nautilus under his feet, either, and it was amazingly difficult to open his eyes. He felt drained, too tired to move, but there was a slow burn in his hands, his arms.

_Get moving, you fool. Quickly, before they come back._

He tried to get his feet under him, but he couldn't. The pain along his shoulders and arms grew worse as he weakly contorted his body trying to find traction. He was suspended, hanging in the air.

Where was he?

_You'll be in hell soon enough, you don't move yer ass. Now start moving._

Hyde's gravelly voice was panicked. Fearful. The surge of adrenaline that realization produced got Jekyll's right eye open. It felt like the left was crusted shut. He was in a dimly lit concrete room. Water trickled down the walls and there were rusty pipes along the ceiling and floors. A basement, maybe? Or work shaft? What city were they in now?

There had been a telegram from Britain, not long after they reached Nairobi. Something about a splinter cell of M's operations. More scientists disappearing and the like.

His head was so fuzzy, Jekyll couldn't think straight. Even Hyde was muffled. Blood was roaring in his ears.

Something stirred behind him, on the other side of a door, perhaps? He couldn't tell where anything was, couldn't triangulate the noises. It was all so warped, so distorted. Like his head was being held underwater.

 _Too late,_ Hyde whispered.

The door behind him clanged open.

"Ah, gut. Gut. You are awake, Herr Jekyll." The low voice echoed in the small chamber, but the speaker did not come into his line of vision. "Tell me, what are you experiencing now?"

Jekyll tried to demand where he was, but all that came out was a dry huffing noise. His jaw wouldn't work, his tongue was too thick. He jerked ineffectually, rattling the chains that restrained his arms and legs. He could see the long loops of thick links piled on the floor. Had he been Hyde when he was captured? He couldn't recall transforming...

_You’ve been ambushed, you pathetic little nonce. "Going to talk to a friend" to help those no-good do-gooders. Obviously no friend of ours. Now we're gonna die. You can’t take much more of this._

He managed to lift his head and roll it to the right. He could just make out a metal cart, and a blur of white that slowly came into focus as a man in a surgeon's jacket. Someone familiar looking...

“Lukas?”

“Obviously, we have not achieved the correct formula. Note, his pulse rate has decreased dramatically, but his higher cognitive functions appear to be impaired again.”

The man rolled his r's until all Jekyll could hear was the continuous susurration reverberating through his head, against the back of his throat. He had to squeeze his eyes shut at the vertigo it produced, but nothing helped. He was spinning out of control.

What the devil was happening to him? Why couldn't Hyde be more helpful?

"We shall increase the dosage by three percent," the man announced, going to the cart. There were more whispers behind Jekyll, people murmuring to one another. Who was there? Where was he?

 _Isn't obvious by now?_ Hyde whispered. _Those rumors about these bastards were true, twit._

Jekyll frowned and tried to lift his head again. He couldn't. Shiny black shoes entered his field of vision. A sharp sting in his side made him gasp. Burning pressure building in his ribs, next to his heart. He tried to scream, but only a groan escaped his clenched teeth. He tried to fight back his panic.

Damn. Who knows what they had just given him.

_It's not the right serum, that's for sure._

"Interesting phenomenon. Are you recording what he is saying? The subject appears to be conversing with himself..."

"They did say the brute spoke and acted as an independent entity apart from Herr Jekyll."

"Very curious. I wonder if it is necessary for the formula to work?"

"It might explain the failure of the earlier subjects. Or perhaps he is still alive now due to repeated exposure to the original serum?"

"I wish they would hurry with another sample. He may not last much longer..."

The shiny black shoes hastily retreated when Jekyll began to convulse. This wasn't the normal feeling when he took his potion. This was something far worse...

"Quickly, restrain his legs! We can't afford to let him hurt--"

The last thing he felt was himself throwing up as his eyes rolled back into his head.

**Part Four: The Nautilus**

The first thing he became aware of was the reassuring rumble of the Nautilus’ engines around him. The air was frightfully warm, but he couldn’t stop shivering. Why was he--

His mind shied from that thought, and he concentrated on the other sounds around him. He was in the infirmary of the ship, that much he could tell. They must have put him in a separate room since it was so dark.

There was the murmur of voices to his left. Captain Nemo and Mrs. Harker. He tried to sit up, planning to go find them, but at the first movement of his arms, his body screamed in protest. He couldn’t muffle his low moan of pain, sharp spikes of agony traveling over his limbs.

“Easy, Doc,” Skinner’s voice next to him. The man really had to stop sneaking around so much. 

He opened his mouth to tell the thief so, but his throat was so dry he started to choke.

“Whoa, easy, easy!”

A wet cloth was pressed to his lips. He greedily sucked at it, ignoring the smile in Skinner’s voice when he said, “I can get you a cup, Doc. Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t drown yourself.”

He didn’t bother to respond. The clatter of glass and Skinner’s gloved hand was behind his head, lifting. He took large gulps from the cup, until Skinner pulled it away.

“Careful. You’ve been out for a while.”

“How long?” He rasped.

“About five days.” There was an uneasiness in Skinner’s tone that Jekyll focused on quickly.

“What is it?” He asked wearily, trying to discern the line of the man’s jacket in the darkness.

“What’s what, Doc?” Definite uneasiness.

“Don’t trifle with me, Skinner.”

“Maybe I should go get Harker,” the agent answered without answering. Jekyll reached for where he thought the other man’s arm would be and encountered the metal frame of the cot.

“Damn…” He drew his aching hand back, frowning. Skinner hadn’t left though, and leather-covered fingers gently touched his arm.

“Look, Doc,” the other man finally said, voice calm but with an underlying anxiety. “Let’s just do a little test, then I’ll go get the she-demon.”

“Fine. Proceed, Agent.” Jekyll tried not to sound too sarcastic, but his head was killing him and his body ached. What had been done to him?

“All right.” A rustle of leather. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Don’t be foolish—“ Something clicked then. A horrible certainty, and he sank back into the bed. After a moment, he said quietly, “Damn it.”

Skinner actually sounded remorseful. “Yeah, Doc.”

The words sat between them until Skinner lightly touched his arm again to gain his attention. “I’ll just tell them you’re awake, yeah?”

Jekyll nodded absently but didn’t trust his voice to speak. He didn’t want to think about what had been done to him, he really didn’t. But…

Hyde wasn’t whispering to him. There were no snide remarks on his captivity, no heckling at his reaction to Skinner. Nothing.

He was alone in his own head for the first time in years, and it was very dark.

Measured footsteps approached, accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric. Mrs. Harker, then.

"What's happened to me?" He asked in a hoarse whisper, struggling to sit up.

“I need you to lay down, Henry.” Mrs. Harker’s cool tones did little to calm his nerves. “We don’t know the full extent of your injuries yet.”

“Injuries?” He tried to assess the rest of his body. An overall ache had settled into his limbs. “What happened? Who–?”

“You went to see your associate, Dr. Muracken, about the curious powder we found at the crime scene. Do you remember?”

Deft hands were manipulating his arms, either checking bandages or wrapping them with gauze, perhaps. He could barely feel it. His head throbbed as he tried to make sense of her words.

“Associate? Powder? What–“ More coughing wracked his body, and when it subsided, he felt a cup pressed to his lips. Wetting his throat, he tried again. “What are you talking about?”

Her voice was unnaturally even as she responded. “Two weeks ago, we were asked by the British government to investigate the brutal murder of a man who had apparently taken the Hyde serum.”

He was only aware of her fingers on his wrist from the pressure as his arm moved.

“The local authorities had a few suspects already. Agent Sawyer tracked them back to an old warehouse, where we found a fully outfitted laboratory, but were unable to capture any of the scientists involved. Further investigation revealed that experiments on humans were being conducted with the same serums produced at M’s Siberian laboratory. Is any of this familiar?” Her voice was brisk, but he could hear the underlying worry.

“No,” he said faintly, head still pounding. “None at all.”

“You and I were unable to identify one of the powders found at the site, so you suggested enlisting the aide of your former colleague, a Doctor Lukas Muracken.” There was the metallic click of scissors being set aside. “We didn’t know that he was in charge of the laboratory. You were ambushed, but luckily Skinner had followed you to your appointment, otherwise we might not have gotten to you in time... They did a bit of violence to you, I’m afraid. You were chained in his basement. Do your arms hurt at all?”

He made a negative noise in his throat, overwhelmed. His head was reeling. He remembered who Lukas was, he knew that much. He could remember the funeral they had for Quartermain. He had a vague recollection of the government request...

“What did they give me?” He finally managed to ask.

“We’re not quite sure. They had you for less than twelve hours. We only found one completed formula, and from their notes, they were increasing your dosage every four hours.”

She had moved on to his legs, but he could barely feel it. It was almost as if he was disconnected from his body. He tried lifting his arm again and felt it knock into the wall beside the bed, yet he couldn’t mentally place where his arm was.

He frowned. “And I’ve been unconscious for five days...”

“Yes.” She hesitated a moment. “I hope you don’t hold it against me, but I’ve compared their formula to the notes in your satchel...”

“You had little choice, madame,” he reassured her.

“Indeed. You’ll be surprised to hear that the serums were remarkably similar. They failed to include one chemical and had substituted a variation of another, but they managed to reverse engineer a fair replication. You had obviously transformed once while in their captivity, but you’ve shown no signs of changing since then.”

“Yet it may still be in my system?” He refused to allow himself to hope the blindness was a result of the drug not wearing off yet.

“We don’t know what sort of damage it’s done, whether it’s permanent or not. It’s too early to tell.” Her tone became warmer. “But the fact that you’ve woken up _is_ a relief.”

He managed an assenting grunt in response but didn’t want to contemplate all the possibilities a change in the formula might pose. When he was first designing it, he had failures and side effects, but nothing this serious...

“Why don’t you try to rest for now?” Mrs. Harker suggested softly, leaning over him. “Part of your condition may just be exhaustion.”

She settled something on his shoulders, most likely a blanket. He let himself drift off, unable to muster the energy to reply. Her footsteps traveled away from his bed, and he heard her murmur quietly to someone. He felt sluggish, frighteningly so, and strained to listen as someone approached again, pulling a stool close to the bed side.

“Just rest, Doc,” Skinner whispered, probably more to himself than the patient. But Jekyll found himself relaxing when he realized he wouldn’t be totally defenseless and alone.

**Part Five: The Nautilus**

Not for the first time, Jekyll cursed himself for a trusting fool and nursed his aching shin. He had finally found his reclining chair, but now he didn’t want to sit in the damn thing.

It was vaguely wrong not to have Hyde provide a running commentary in the back of his mind. There was something ironic about the fact that he was finally rid of the monster and yet he was preparing to purposefully invoke him again. He had a case full of serum that would hopefully evoke a normal transformation, but he and Mrs. Harker had agreed that he should let the effects of the pseudo-formula completely dissipate before attempting it.

As far as they were able to tell, the concoction Muracken had given him was meant to suppress the beast once it had been summoned, giving the subject a level of control that Jekyll was unable to reach with Hyde. M’s laboratories had already reproduced the Hyde serum once before, and somehow this splinter cell had gotten the formula. They had known that, but Jekyll hadn’t known how far along its development was or that his old friend was the one studying it.

To discover that they were beyond testing the actual potion and were into exploring avenues of controlling the beast? Was as utterly unexpected as Muracken’s collaboration.

Jekyll could barely remember what had happened, honestly. Just flashes of feelings and pain and Hyde going to pieces in the back of his head. Fragments disintegrating around him until there was just this inky blackness for Jekyll to fall into where the monster had been. Regaining consciousness to discover he was blind and could barely move hadn’t done much to ease the lost feeling, but at least the disconnective kinesthesia had dissipated by the second time he woke up and four days later, the only after-effect seemed to be his loss of sight. And Hyde.

But that was not completely true. Hyde was not gone, not forever. There were still occasional ripples in his mind, as though the interest of something had been stirred in the murky depths. Yet wherever the brute had retreated to, he was refusing to be drawn out. He was in there, though, Jekyll knew that with a frightening certainty.

Sighing, he continued to move restlessly around his quarters.

If he wanted to leave, he was now required to be escorted by a member of the crew at all times, as per the captain’s orders. One wrong turn on the way to the galley last night and the ensuing chaos in the engine rooms had convinced the captain that Jekyll needed a keeper. Since Jekyll felt guilty pulling some hapless seaman from his duties, that meant he was spending more time in the confines of his room.

Not that he was in wont of company. Mrs. Harker was being his eyes and hands as they studied the chemicals seized from the illegal laboratory, and Skinner had been most attentive the past few days, although why, Jekyll had no clue.

At this point, Hyde would have made some buggery comment to taunt him and Jekyll would have gotten defensive and angry. The continued silence was disturbing if only because he could practically hear what the brute would say.

Maybe they weren’t that separate after all.

The agitated pacing brought him to his worktable. His laboratory effects had mostly survived the impact of the explosions from their first adventure, and whatever he lacked, he was able to borrow from Mrs. Harker’s supplies. Fingers idly trailing over bottles of chemicals, he was relieved to find the components for his potion to be intact.

The hatch to his cabin slid open, his only warning that he was about to have guests. Placing a hand on the table to steady himself, he turned towards the noise.

“Whatcha smiling at?” Skinner asked from the doorway.

The man had gone to borrow beakers from Mrs. Harker for him, and the clink of glass implied he was successful. In Jekyll’s own room, he was becoming more proficient at triangulating sounds, yet in the echoing halls of the ship proper, he was lost.

“Merely taking an inventory, Agent Skinner.” He counted the rows of bottles strapped in his case lid, then followed a column down until he carefully plucked a flat glass bottle with a metal lid from the elastic. “Magnesium chlorate.”

A rustle of leather came steadily closer, then the thud of Skinner placing the latest loan on the table. The bottle in his hand was lifted away, and he tried to ignore the contact of their fingers, the slide of Skinner’s leather gloves over his skin.

“Huh. Good memory, there.” Skinner finally said.

Jekyll ignored the flush his thoughts had brought and cleared his throat. He held out his hand for the bottle, which was gently placed in his palm. Returning it to his travel case, he smiled vaguely. “Yes, well. The benefits of an organized work area.”

“Here I thought you were just anal-retentive.” Skinner’s voice moved away for a moment, to where he had placed the box of glasses.

Trying not to grin, Jekyll shrugged. “Someone’s been reading the good captain’s latest shipment of books.”

“Yeah. Not much else to do. This last bit of world-saving is all done but the politicking, and I am definitely not going near that unless I have to.”

Swallowing his disappointment that Skinner was merely looking for a way to avoid the political frenzy portside, Jekyll started organizing the beakers that the other man was unpacking on his worktable.

“Indeed, I understand.” His leg was beginning to ache steadily, but he wanted to get his experiments underway. So he sought distraction. “I would not place much faith in Dr. Freud’s theories, however. He has yet to satisfactorily prove them in a clinical setting.”

The door must have been left open, because there was an odd noise from the hall. Almost like something had been ground into the walkway, followed by angry murmurs. With effort, Jekyll focused on his task.

Skinner snorted. “Dunno ‘bout clinical whatsits. But some of it makes sense, once you get past all the freaky-speak. He’s really fixated on his mum, you ask me.”

Chuckling, Jekyll counted the number of small beakers present. He frowned as his fingers closed around the last one. “Weren’t there supposed to be twelve?”

“Um, yeah, about that...” Skinner hedged. Jekyll could just imagine his expression as he listened to the nervous rustle of his jacket. “Fraid there was a bit of a bump in the road on the way over–“

“Skinner!” The captain’s voice reverberated through the halls.

“One sec, Doc.”

Before Jekyll could reply, there was the sound of shoes quickly tapping across the floor, then his wardrobe opening and closing. He was left standing, holding the last beaker with a confused expression on his face. Footsteps rapidly approached from the hallway and he tried to look innocent.

“Have you seen that damnable man?” Captain Nemo demanded from the doorway. Jekyll didn’t have to feign confusion.

“Excuse me, sir?”

The captain’s voice softened, as it had been wont to do around Jekyll lately. “Forgive me, Henry. I am looking for Skinner. I merely wish to demonstrate what happens when my beloved Lady is defiled!”

Jekyll didn’t need his sight to know that Skinner was quite right to flee when faced with that sort of fury. The sounds of glass being swept up were clear now that Jekyll knew what he was listening for.

“He delivered the beakers to me, but I’m afraid I didn’t see where he went afterwards.” There, not technically a lie.

Captain Nemo cleared his throat. “Forgive the intrusion, then. If you do happen across him before I hunt him down, let him know I wish a... word with him.”

“I most certainly will, Captain.” Jekyll smiled, and the Captain closed the door, muttering dangerously to himself.

He waited until he couldn’t hear any footsteps again before he announced, “All clear.”

The bureau door creaked as it opened.

“You’re a right bloke, you know that?” Skinner’s voice was jovial, inviting Jekyll to share in the mischief.

Jekyll crossed his arms over his chest and frowned in the direction of his wardrobe, eyebrow raised.

“Oy, I was going to clean it up. Not my fault this place don’t have its broom closets labeled properly.” Light footsteps echoed across the metal flooring of the room, the swing of Skinner’s trench coat easy to follow.

“Then you won’t mind being the one to inform Mrs. Harker that she is lacking a beaker.”

The noises stopped abruptly. “Now that’s just cruel...”

“Hm.” Jekyll turned back to his experiment table, aligning beakers and unlit burners, and straightening piping, all by touch. He could’ve sworn that he felt Skinner watching him.

“If you’ve nothing better to do,” he finally said. “And wisdom suggests you make yourself scarce for the time being, perhaps you could lend me your eyes for a while.”

“Why?” Skinner sounded wary. “What are you planning on doing with them?”

“I’m testing various solutions for their reactions. All you’ll have to do is add the amounts I tell you to and record the change in color and opacity.”

“Sounds simple enough...” The leather jacket was shrugged off and thrown over his reclining chair. The brush of a shoulder across his front startled Jekyll, as he hadn’t heard the other man move. It was... disconcerting.

“Where do we start?” Skinner asked, and Jekyll cleared his throat, hoping his expression didn’t relay his discomfort.

“You’ll find the first solute in the second beaker to your right.” He relaxed a bit as he fell into the normal routine of his lab. “Using one of the empty beakers, combine three pipettes of that with two from the fourth on your right. Then place it over the heat.”

“Right, no problem... Three pips from the fourth beaker...” Skinner said fourth beaker, but Jekyll distinctly heard him tap on the first beaker, then the second before picking it up. The pipette clinked on the mouth of the beaker, then there was the flare of a match and the smell of sulfur.

Fingering his notes cards and stylographic pen, Jekyll felt the tightness between his shoulders dissipate. Skinner liked to play the fool, but the man really was intelligent. He had to be, in his line of work. Jekyll supposed most of his hostility over that little revelation had diminished in the furor of the past week, but it still left him feeling vaguely reserved in Skinner’s presence. Here was a man he had thought was a slippery scoundrel with no morals, who turned out to be an officer of the law. But then, look at himself. A man purported to be a respected doctor and gentleman, who turned into a savage murderer under his own power.

“I swear I didn’t break anything, Doc, so quit glaring at me,” Skinner said casually as he plucked the note cards and pen out of Jekyll’s hands.

“I wasn’t glaring,” he reflexively insisted.

But he had been roused from his reverie and he strained to determine Skinner’s position. It was amazing how his mind still insisted that he couldn’t _see_ Skinner, so he didn’t _know_ where he was, yet his four functioning senses relayed the man’s whereabouts in the small bunk room so easily. The smell of his cologne; the faint trace of body heat radiating off his arms as he reached past Jekyll; the sound of dry skin rubbing against itself; even the short breaths underscored by an imperceptible wheezing that suggested he’d been a heavy smoker at some point. It all served to form a mental map in Jekyll’s mind, placing the invisible man amongst the objects Jekyll knew were there.

“Is it supposed to be turning purple?” Skinner asked dubiously after a moment.

“That’s a common reaction between those two. What shade of purple is it exactly?” Pushing his wandering thoughts aside, he concentrated on the experiment at hand.

“Pretty dark. Kinda milky though.”

“That’s unusual. Interesting. Keep observing it.”

Snorting at the remark, Skinner wrote something down on the cards. The scratch of the pen and the bubbling of the solution provided a backdrop to their breathing, and Jekyll shifted on his sore leg, debating the merits of sitting down. If he did, his leg might seize up on him again.

“So,” Skinner’s tone was nonchalant. “Is it true that you’re not hearing, y’know, the big guy anymore?”

For a moment, Jekyll froze, but he recovered with a shrug, running his fingertips along the edge of his work desk. The man was invisible and a professional spy, of course he’d probably overheard Mrs. Harker and himself discussing it.

“It would appear so,” he finally responded.

“Must be nice.” Again, Skinner’s voice was casual and unassuming. Very neutral. It made Jekyll pick his words carefully.

“It is not as reassuring as I once thought it would be,” he settled on saying.

“Yeah, I get that.”

Jekyll wondered if he truly did.

No more was said on the subject, though, and they continued the experiment in relative silence, only speaking to discuss the changes in the solute.

A knock resounded on the door sometime later, and at Jekyll’s invitation, it cracked open. Skinner tensed at his side, but didn’t flee, so he assumed it wasn’t the captain.

“Hey guys,” Sawyer’s greeting was given in his normal gruff tone. “Dinner’s almost on. Captain wanted to know if you preferred to have it in your cabin again, Doctor?”

“That would be fine, please.” Jekyll was still practicing getting food in his mouth and not his lap.

“Alright. Should I make that two?” The young man turned mischievous. “Heard the captain lost a pair of his good deck shoes to some broken glass earlier. For some reason, Mina thought it might be your fault, Skinner.”

Even Jekyll had to laugh softly at the miserable groan from the invisible man.

“Bloody hell.”

“I do have more tests to run,” Jekyll offered.

“Sounds perfect, Doc.”

Sawyer chuckled and rapped his knuckles absently on the doorframe. “I’ll go relay that to the chef. Have fun hiding.”

He assumed the last part was aimed at his companion. A repeated thunking noise drew his attention to the table, and he carefully reached out. When his hand came in contact with a stubble-covered scalp, he drew back as if he’d touched one of the burners.

“Surely Captain Nemo won’t stay angry for long,” he said sympathetically to cover his blunder.

Skinner snorted disparagingly and leaned closer. “Not bloody likely. Mind if I stay here a bit?”

He had to smile at that. He certainly didn’t mind the company.

“Feel free.”

**Part Six: The Nautilus**

For the second time in a week, Jekyll awoke disorientated and groggy. And also with a splitting head ache, he discovered as he tried to roll onto his side. His stomach revolted against the movement, but strong, cool hands guided his head to the edge of the cot before he made a mess on himself.

“Can you hear me, Henry?” Harker asked quietly, smoothing his hair back behind his ears as she wiped his mouth.

He tried to nod, but excruciating pain blossomed through his skull. Instead he muttered, “Yes, I can.”

He was in his own bunk, clinging to the side like a drowning man. He could tell by the chemical residue in the air. The scent registered before he realized that he still couldn’t see.

“I’m afraid my vision’s still impaired,” he reported softly, battling disappointment.

“But–“ Her voice was confused. “Hyde could see perfectly well.”

“I don’t actually remember,” he admitted with a frown. Normally, he could recall what Hyde did, like he was watching through a window from inside his own mind. This time, it felt more like he had fallen asleep. “So I was able to invoke the beast...”

“Yes.” He heard her turn away, then the sound of a bottle being opened. A stirring noise accompanied it after a moment. “I have plain headache powder here. Are you up to taking it?”

“Indeed.” His voice was rough to his own ears.

She helped him sit up slowly. His stomach protested, as did his head, but he had lost the urge to vomit profusely. A glass was pressed into his shaking hands and he sipped gingerly from it, wincing at the bitter taste. It still galled him that he had to rely on other people for assistance. Thankfully, he trusted Mina.

“So,” she mused as he drank. “At least one of our hypotheses was incorrect. Summoning Hyde did not affect your vision, even though his was functioning normally. There’s no physical damage to your eyes, as far as I can tell, but perhaps we should have Nemo stop in a port with an actual ophthalmologist...”

“I would hate to inconvenience the Captain further,” Jekyll sighed. “But in this condition, I’m little more than excess baggage.”

“You still have your uses, Doc,” Skinner’s subdued voice came from across the room. He hadn’t realized the other man was there. “We need another brain on board besides the she-demon’s here.”

A warning growl came from Mrs. Harker, but Jekyll didn’t detect a rise in tension from her, so he wasn’t too concerned. Skinner could handle his own messes if he wanted to taunt the rest of the crew.

Instead, he waited for the headache powder to take effect. There was something niggling at the edge of his consciousness, but the pounding in his skull was making it difficult to focus.

“You don’t suppose...” He started to say, but trailed off. He snorted into the expectant silence. “Previously, Hyde was a manifestation of the beast in me, a facet of my mind. The serum just gave him a form...”

“Can you sense him now?” Mrs, Harker asked.

He paused to evaluate what he felt, if Hyde was waiting for him. There still hadn’t been any remarks, but the predatory waiting in the back of his mind hadn’t dissipated.

“In a fashion, nothing explicit.”

“Maybe you just– What that quack called it– Repressed him?” Skinner offered. He had moved closer while they were speaking, and now hovered safely out of Mrs. Harker’s reach.

“Perhaps. That’s a better explanation than most...” Jekyll conceded.

“Or else the other serum caused you to completely disassociate from him?” Harker said thoughtfully. “We still don’t know exactly what they did to you. It may explain why he was more... difficult to deal with than normal.”

“If that’s the case, then this whole blindness may just be a product of my mind as well.” He honestly didn’t want to have a lady tell him what Hyde had said or done. He really didn’t.

Silence descended as the two scientists mulled over their new theories. Well, Jekyll attempted to think while his temples throbbed. Finally, Mrs. Harker stood with a determined inhalation.

“Since you’re awake now, I’ll go speak with the captain about finding a specialist for you.” He could hear her smooth the folds of her dress, and he managed a wan smile.

“Thank you, madame.” He let his head slump back against the pillows propping him up.

“Cap’n and Sawyer are in the meeting room right now,” Skinner said with a smirk. “Apparently we got another request from Her Majesty.”

“Which you know nothing about, I’m sure,” Harker said dryly.

A noise that might have been a shrug came from Skinner, and Mina clasped Jekyll’s hand lightly before turning to leave.

“I trust you’ll look after the good doctor, Skinner?” She asked from the doorway, tone sly.

“He’s in good hands, darling.” Skinner’s voice had an odd quality to it, something that made Jekyll want to hide himself but also put him on edge.

Mrs. Harker shut the door behind her.

Skinner was the first to speak. “So you don’t remember a thing, huh?”

“As I’ve said before-- No, I do not.” He really didn’t want to know what Hyde had done. Perhaps it was a small blessing he couldn’t recall anything past drinking his serum.

“Hm. Lucky that. Might want to stick to your quarters, though, let the crew– heh– calm down.”

Of course Skinner would want to fill him in on everything. The man really was a gossip. As it was, Jekyll just wanted him to shut up.

“Put three men in the infirmary, your boy did.” His tone was glib. “They’re all right now, just a bit shaken and stirred. Guess Hyde objected to being grounded, as it were.”

Apparently Skinner was not conversant in body language, since Jekyll was fairly certain he did not have an amused expression on. The other man’s cockney accent was grating on his nerves, but that may have just been his general annoyance.

“Now, we Leaguers, we know you’re not responsible for what the man says and does. Him being just a ‘manifestation’ of your beastly urges and whatnot. So I’m sure the missus didn’t take offense. Think she’s heard worse in her day. Sawyer may not have found it so easy to brush off, but that’s probably his pride talking. He’ll get over it, though. He’s pretty even keel, you think about it. Wonder how he ended up here with the freak show, eh?”

Quietly, Jekyll released a frustrated sigh as Skinner rambled on. He probably owed his comrades an apology after this, but with just Skinner’s word– Who knew if the man was having one over him?

“Nemo, well, he had that nostril flaring action going on, but he didn’t draw his sword, so he must not have been too riled.” Skinner sauntered to the bunk and pulled a chair closer, pausing to tuck the basin Harker had provided when Jekyll first awoke under the bed. “Eugh. I take it you’re not hungry, but do you need anything? Water? More drugs?”

“I’m fine.”

An awkward pause followed the bitter words. Jekyll reached up to massage his temples with a sigh.

Skinner’s next words were somber. “You don’t look fine, Doc. To be honest, you look miserable.”

“Why, thank you for pointing that out.” He said snidely, head throbbing even more. “Why do you care, anyway? Surely you don’t need such trivial information to pad your reports, Agent?”

At Skinner’s silence, he realized what he’d just said. Remorse shot through him as the other man pulled back.

“No wait.” Jekyll reached out, questing until his hands connected with Skinner’s forearm, judging from the light dusting of hairs. “That was out of line. I apologize. I just…”

“It’s all right, Doc. I get it.” Skinner paused, transferring Jekyll’s hold to his hand. “Kinda getting used to you waking up growling at me...”

“I assure you, it’s not a habit I cultivate.”

He felt no little gratitude for the simple contact of the calloused flesh beneath his fingers anchoring him, giving him a point of reference while his head was convinced he was doing somersaults. The hand grasping his twitched and he realized he was being presumptuous, expecting Skinner to sit with an invalid while the others discussed plans for the future.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You must have business to tend to. Please don’t feel obligated to stay.”

“It’s no trouble, Doc.” Skinner said quietly, grip tightening on Jekyll. “Wouldn’t do to leave a mate with no one at his back, would it?”

“Then please... stay. If it’s not any bother…”

Acquiescing silently, the tension left Skinner’s body. The bunk dipped with the weight of the other man, but Jekyll still held his palm firmly. A warm thigh pressed against his own, and he put an arm out to reposition himself, jerking it back when he encountered the bare skin of Skinner’s hip.

The man really wasn’t wearing clothes. He walked around _naked_. All the time.

He hoped that he could blame the heat in his face on fever, but doubted anyone would believe him. A throaty chuckle from the agent let Jekyll know his reaction had not gone unnoticed.

“You know, Doc, you keep acting like that whenever you get near me, and a boy’ll get ideas in his head.”

“What—“ His voice cracked. His headache was forgotten in his temporary panic. “Whatever do you mean?”

“What I’m saying is--” the mattress springs creaked as Skinner leaned closer. “—I might have the urge to do this—“ and moist lips pressed against Jekyll’s shocked mouth, the brush of stubble scratching against his chin.

The scientist was too surprised to really respond, and Skinner pulled away with a rueful snort.

“Now before you get your knickers in a twist, I know you ain’t really interested. Just something I’ve been wanting to do and Hyde said... Well, you don’t need to hear what he said, but I figured you wouldn’t break my jaw or nothing...”

Jekyll couldn’t speak.

“And I’m not trying to take advantage of you in your... whatever, but I figured I wouldn’t get a better chance, so yes. You know me, opportunist extraordinaire.”

The nervousness underlying the cavalier attitude was actually reassuring to Jekyll. He cleared his throat.

“What I know, sir,” he replied with a wry smile, “is that you show an inordinate amount of interest in my knickers.”

Skinner froze at his teasing tone, then relaxed. “Not very surprising, is it? Been told enough times I’m a deviant.”

The agent chuckled near his face, breath stirring the hairs on Jekyll’s forehead, and Jekyll tentatively lifted his hand to trace thin lips with his fingertips.

“Aren’t we all, in this band of outcasts?” He mused and felt the lips twist into grimace.

“That really wasn’t an image I needed of the Captain, Doc.”

Jekyll laughed aloud, jarring his head and wincing.

“Why don’t you sleep now. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” And oddly enough, he trusted Skinner to hold true to his word.

He sank into back into his bedding, smiling wryly when the covers were solicitously tucked under his chin. Hesitantly, Skinner slid his hand under Jekyll’s, letting their fingers twine together. Jekyll permitted it with a gentle grip. Rodney chuckled.

Whether they cured his vision or not, Jekyll felt like he could manage.

**Part Seven: London**

“Nice to be home, eh?” Skinner commented, approaching to stand next to Jekyll at the balcony railing. The scientist turned his head towards him out of habit, and smiled when Skinner started drumming out the royal march on the marble stones.

“Define home. I’m lucky I haven’t been clapped in irons yet.” Jekyll’s hand shot out and stilled the nervous twitching, eerily accurate. Skinner jumped.

“Well, I don’t know about you, Doc, but everywhere else we’ve gone has just been too… clean.” Skinner reluctantly pulled his hands away from Jekyll’s hold. “I’ll take soot and exhaust and dark alleys over the Sahara any day.”

Smiling wanly, Jekyll faced the city again and listened to the late afternoon noises. It was reassuring that things here hadn’t changed much over the past few years. Little things might evolve or be replaced, but London still had her own personality.

Unfortunately, the moment of privacy he had managed to garner did little to quell his anxiety. It must have shown on his face.

“You okay with all of this?” Skinner asked, tone casual even as he kept his voice low.

“I will be. There are few options left at this point.”

“True.” Still, Skinner hesitated. “But we haven’t really worked with Hyde since—everything. You think he’s gonna cooperate?”

“Given the chance for mayhem and chaos, I think he will. As much as he ever did.” He tried to sound more confident than he felt. He had been asking himself the same question since Sawyer and Harker had developed their latest plan.

It seemed that the League would be needed by the world for some time to come, as splinter groups of M’s operations continued to crop up in cities around the globe. They were currently at an office of Her Majesty’s Secret Service addressing the latest request from the Crown, namely the reports of faction activity in London. Agents had tracked the activity back to a stronghold, which the League was about to storm.

They wanted him to take the Hyde serum in order to assist.

He had mixed feelings on the entire operation, but intelligence reports believed that this site was a replication factory for Mrs. Harker’s condition and no one else in the League could match the vampiress’ strength, save Hyde.

It had been two weeks since his failed attempt to regain his vision, and they had invoked Hyde only once in the interim. The brute had been unmanageable, to say the least, and Jekyll still had no conscious recollection or control over his actions while transformed. But he couldn’t let the rest of the League face a potential small army of vampires by themselves, nor could he abide by letting production of the vampire serum continue.

Sawyer calling them from inside the building caught his attention, and Skinner sighed beside him.

“Looks like we’re on, Doc.”

Jekyll pushed away from the balcony and followed the sound of rustling leather inside. Another of Captain Nemo’s vehicles was at their disposal for transport while the captain himself prepared the Nautilus for a port-side attack on the warehouse serving as the faction headquarters.

Mrs. Harker stopped him as they were getting into the car and pressed a glass bottle into his hand.

“An extra serum, Henry. In case it’s needed.”

He nodded to acknowledge her foresight and climbed into the vehicle. It smelled like leather and gasoline, and he clutched the extra bottle tightly. He hoped it wouldn’t be required of him.

Sawyer was sitting on his right, and Skinner was pressed against his left side. No one spoke as the car rumbled through the twisted London streets. Jekyll almost wanted to ask what buildings they were passing, but the tension was making his heart beat faster and he knew that he’d only begin to stutter if he attempted to speak. He had to admit, the lack of inane comments from Skinner was troublesome as well.

“We’re here,” Sawyer muttered as they began to slow down. “All right. You know the plan. You’re on, Skinner.”

The car door opened, letting in a whiff of air that smelled like ocean and rotting fish. The pressure of Skinner’s body lifted away, and the door closed again. The tense silence descended once more.

“Okay,” Sawyer said close by Jekyll’s right. “There’s the signal, Doc. You ready?”

“Of course, Agent.”

And then he was being guided out of the vehicle, Mina taking his elbow as they rushed across a cobblestone street. 

With more aplomb than he felt, Jekyll twisted the cap off the serum bottle and knocked it back. The bitter liquid slid down his throat like rotgut whiskey and spread its burning warmth through his chest just as fast. His heart was pounding in his face and neck, surging until his hands were shaking. The familiar, reassuring tingle started building in his arms and legs, and Mina’s iron grip on his arm kept him upright as he contorted through the first stages of the change.

He registered the splintering of the thick warehouse doors as though he was watching from a distance, like this was something happening on a stage and not to himself. His world went from pitch black to a burst of warped light, layers of varying temperatures and the crimson spectrum of heat. 

A horde of warm bodies rushing at them, weapons a dull grey compared to the yellows and reds of limbs that were so easy to just reach out and crush and there was the sizzle of arterial blood on his skin, his hands, hands with fingers as thick as other men’s wrists, and the flurry of movement around him was perfect, perfect because he had been so very bored—

And he knew he was doing these things. He knew and it was him, his hands, his body, this monstrosity, this abomination inside him that the world could finally see. His darkness, his sins, his twisted perversion—

And the horror was overwhelming, the gore spattering him, the people screaming, the sound of gunfire and snarls with fangs and. And.

And this wasn’t him. He could never do this. Dr. Henry Jekyll could. Not. Do. This. It wasn’t him. It was—

“Finally.”

A growl deep in his chest, but also in his thoughts. And he was himself again, on the inside looking out and staring with revulsion at the destruction Hyde was wreaking.

_That’s right. One of us has to do this, Henry, and it has to be me, you worthless little shit. You’re nothing without me, just a sniveling blind nonce who isn’t even good for a doctor any more._

In his mind, he tried to close his eyes. He couldn’t block the voice out, though. Couldn’t ignore it, and Hyde was laughing at him as the brute reveled in the crunch of bones under his massive hands.

_You need me, Henry. What are you without me?_

And underneath Jekyll’s horror came a sense of release. It wasn’t him doing this, these weren’t his feelings, his wants.

It was the relief that he hated himself for the most.

**Part Eight: The Nautilus**

The braying ring of his alarm clock woke Jekyll from the first sound sleep he’d had in quite some time. Fumbling for his bedside table, he dislodged the heavy warmth lying across his back and managed to silence the damn clock with a heavy backhand. It gave a pitiful chime as it landed on the other side of the room. Jekyll sighed, then groaned as the heavy weight returned to its previous position.

“Keep breakin’ it, ‘n I won’t fix it no more,” a sleepy cockney voice grumbled in his ear.

“Like you actually ‘fix’ it,” Jekyll mumbled into his pillow. “Just steal another one again.”

A snort tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. “Noticed that, did you?”

“Blind, Rodney. Not stupid.”

“Never said you were.”

The other man was waking fast as he spoke, stretching out alongside Jekyll and twining his legs through the doctor’s, hands sliding possessively down his sides. The hardness pressing against Jekyll’s hip had him reluctantly pulling himself from the hazy land of sleep as well.

“If you’d be so kind as to stop crushing me, I should be getting up now,” he said succinctly, pushing back with his lower body. He smiled into his pillow as Skinner’s breath caught and wiggled a bit more.

_Aren’t we slutty this morning?_

“Aw, c’mon, Doc,” the teasing tone made it easy to ignore Hyde’s amusement. “We don’t need to be at the meeting for another hour…”

Nimble fingers curled around his buttocks, dipping into the tender skin between his thighs. He gasped and ground down against the mattress as Skinner massaged the back of his balls, the other man’s thumb sliding through the sweat and lotion left from the night before.

“I- I suppose I have time to s-spare,” he managed to say as Rodney pressed warm lips against his bare shoulder.

“You suppose?” The finger teased over his entrance, lightly pulling at the skin.

“We might be able to reach an agreement,” he mumbled, hips arching off the bed to adjust his own straining erection.

_Just let him fuck you already._

His body twitched as Rodney pushed harder, easily slipping past the ring of muscle, and he muffled his moan in the pillow. Desire spiked in him at the thought of what they must look like, him writhing in his apparently empty bed. But the image was difficult to retain when he could feel the heat next to him, hear the noises they made as they twisted together, smell their combined arousal.

And that made him scramble up on to his elbows. He wanted Rodney in him _now_ and couldn’t stifle the broken, needy noise that escaped his throat. But Rodney got the message, hovering over him as he searched for the jar of lotion they used. Impatiently, Jekyll pressed back against him, body tensing as Rodney’s cock slid and caught at his entrance.

The quest for lotion halted with a shuddery breath, and then Jekyll was covered with a sweaty body frantically pulling at his hips, thrusting into him, invading with a wonderful burn that spread along his back and thighs. His muscles strained just to keep himself from collapsing and his hearing was filled with the slap of wet skin and Skinner’s poorly muffled grunts. The painful pleasure of friction left him feeling raw and split open, like he was just a slick hole of flesh to be filled.

Rodney’s hands tightened hard on his waist, hips snapping forward until Jekyll grunted at the twinge it provoked and came in spurts on the sheets. The world was silent in those few seconds, blotted out by the rushing of his own blood. When he came back to himself, he could feel the clench of his muscles around Rodney, feel the other man’s breath hitch as he slammed into Jekyll one last time, the resulting flood of warmth.

Slowly, Rodney sank onto him, gently pulling out. They lay there panting, neither wanting to move or speak, smelling like sex and sweat. After a moment, Skinner rolled off of him and padded towards the adjunct bathroom. Jekyll listened to him go lethargically, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.

Hyde was quiet, he realized smugly. For all that the beast mocked the two of them, he was content to watch them pleasure each other. Flesh was flesh, and the brute really wasn’t that picky when it came to sex.

And that resurrected memories of the time in Paris, a shudder running through Jekyll’s frame and decidedly killing his basking. Sitting up, he swung his legs out of the bunk and paused to get his bearings. Bare feet made little tapping noises on the hard floor, and Jekyll caught the hand Rodney extended with practiced ease.

“Do we have time for a shower?” He asked as he rose.

“If both of us hop in, we’ll manage,” came the smirking reply. Which meant there was enough time for a second round if they desired, and Rodney did. “Don’t want the honorable Mrs. Harker to have to stand upwind, now, do we? Although, if we’re lucky it might give her ideas…”

Jekyll frowned as he allowed himself to be tugged into the small bathroom. “Really, Rodney.”

The throaty snicker acknowledged his indignation on Mrs. Harker’s behalf, just as Rodney had known he would protest, but the hand in his squeezed once before letting go to turn on the shower apparatus. Jekyll let his fingers run along the clammy skin of the other man’s back, touch gentle, in acknowledgement of his teasing.

It was getting easier to hear what left unsaid by the ex-thief now. Skinner didn’t merely hide himself from the naked eye, yet Jekyll was learning to see past the guff to the man beneath, whether or not Rodney realized what was happening.

Although, it did strike Jekyll as ironic that he wasn’t able to accomplish it until he lost his sight.

_Fool._

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://jrocci.tumblr.com/)


End file.
